The Mermaid's Curse
by Emmy Smokes
Summary: Neverland AU, pre-S4. Ariel/Captain Hook. Mermaids are supposed to lead sailors astray. But unlike her sisters, Ariel believes that humans are fascinating creatures. Even if her love for one of them was unrequited.
1. The hook

**the mermaid's curse**

by Emmy Smokes

"You didn't do anything. Again."

It's not a statement or a question, it's an accusation. Her sisters look angry, though Ariel has seen them look much worse. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies the treasures they've brought with them this time. A crown of feathers, a small knife, a broken mirror, an arrow, and so many other wonderful things she cannot even name.

It seems Adella's won this time, for she looks rather proud as she brushes her hair with one of her many prizes (a comb, Ariel remembers suddenly). She, too, sneers at Ariel.

"It's about time you joined us, little sister," Arista says. Her eyes are cold.

"Next time. I promise."

"I'm getting tired of hearing that. Next time, sisters. I'll be there, I promise. Next time. Next time."

"I'm sorry, Aquata. I just—"

"You just _what_?"

"You are too different to join us?"

"Too _special_?"

They're all circling her like sharks, speaking of horrible things, their eyes accusing, their hands reaching out for her—

Ariel swims away. She feels one of her sisters' long nails graze her tail, but she's faster than they are. By the time she reaches the surface, the cold night air feels like a summer's breeze compared to the sea's dark grip.

The stones of Mermaid Lagoon shine a faint shade of silver under the moonlight. It's her sisters' place, though, so she swims past it. Her sisters call it beautiful. All Ariel sees in it is the blood and the carnage, even long after the sea has washed it all away.

Her favorite place is on a far-off rock by the sea, not close enough to the shore to be it's dangerous, yet close enough to be forbidden. It's loveliest at night, when the stars are brightest and the waves are gentle. Ariel likes to count them, likes the fact that she can't.

Suddenly, the ocean begins to glow. At first Ariel thinks it's just the moon reflected on the waters, but a moment after she's holding tight to the rock as the whirlpool starts to grow in curls. She was right—it _is_ glowing, and it has nothing to do with the moon and everything to do with magic.

Perhaps all her years of wishing upon shades and stars have paid off.

A dark, monstruous thing begins to rise from the depths. Its wings are white as foam and its skeleton looks rugged. It takes Ariel a few held breaths to recognize it for what it is. Indeed, if she looks hard enough, she can see the shadows of her ruined ships in it.

"A ship," she whispers to herself and almost cries because she's looking at a real live ship and for the second time in her life, she experiences what her sisters so often tell her about. This, she thinks, is true happiness.

She dives in and swims towards it. It's hauntingly beautiful. Ariel swims below it, careful not to get to close. She watches it float and she floats along with it, wanting but never daring to touch it.

Her heart filled with that familiar, long-lost joy, she goes to the surface, as close to the ship as she can. Even here, at a safe distance, she can appreciate its majestic beauty in the way it shifts with the wind and the waves. She knows if she was a human, this is where she would belong.

"Ariel!"

Aquata's voice startles her. She turns around to find all her sisters in their usual places, all smiling, and all prepared for tonight's curse. Together, they begin to sing.

Ariel watches in horror as sailors start to appear from every corner of the ship. At first, they only watch, as if in a trance, until they meet her sisters' eyes and seal their fate. Ariel looks away.

This is her curse. This is the price she has to pay for her foolishness.

A long time ago she'd opened her eyes and all she'd seen had been foam.

She had disappeared, swallowed by the ocean, drifted to the sky, carried off to a place where there was only white.

There was white here too, but it was only the glare of the sun. There were no clouds to shield her. Her fingers dipped into the sand and when a wave brushed over them her eyes filled with tears.

Her reborn senses took in the world around her with greed and want and need. She touched her shoulders and her hair and her arms, reassuring them and herself. Then, instinctively, she looked down. The emerald tail, her long-forgotten fiend, glistened under the water.

Even then she thought to herself that perhaps it had all been a nightmare, after all.

She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of the sand and the water on her skin, the smell of the sea, the beat of her heart.

All it takes to break the spell is a man's voice. His screams are louder than the others', and something in Ariel's heart stirs. She looks.

What she sees takes her breath away.

Half the men are already fighting off her sisters, while the rest watch in sheer horror. She has no trouble finding the man she'd heard. Something glistens in his hand as he struggles to break free of Arista's grip. His face is painfully familiar, making something in Ariel's heart stir.

Ariel doesn't know what comes over her then, but she swims as fast as she can. Arista is already dragging him deeper into the sea's dark embrace, but Ariel dives in and manages to get a hold of his ankle. She was always the fastest swimmer.

Arista pulls, her features twisting when she sees Ariel is doing the same. But the man with the hook is still alive, and though he can't rival a mermaid's strength, he can still fight. He is slow in the water, as most humans are, but his hook sinks into Arista's chest with certainty. Her blood spills like ink, and Ariel meets her eyes for the last time. Even when she is about to die, they are cold.

"Arista!"

Her sister must have wanted to say something back, because she opens her mouth. All that comes out is blood, though. It is the last thing Ariel sees before Arista disappears.

The man with the Hook gazes at Ariel before his eyes fall closed.

For a moment, Ariel hesitates. Finally, she holds the man and takes him to the surface.

* * *

**A/N:** Feedback is lovely. 3


	2. Lost creatures

**the mermaid's curse**

by Emmy Smokes

**Chapter 2**

"Is Neverland dangerous?"

To his credit, even the Crocodile looks at Emma Swan as if she's quite daft. But neither he nor Regina look as if they're about to answer her question, so Killian replies instead, "Yes it is." His hand grips the rudder tightly. "There's shadows and Indians and mermaids there. Which, I'll admit, may not sound so dangerous to you, but believe me—you do not want to witness the mermaids' curse."

The prince frowns. "What is that?"

All eyes are on him, and as much as Killian enjoys the attention, he must admit this is one tale he'd rather not tell.

* * *

The water had entered his body, his blood, his being. For a moment, after he'd killed the monster that had drowned him, he'd been relieved: he was about to join Milah in the depths of the ocean at last. His eyes had drifted, already half-dead, and before he died he thought he glimpsed a true mermaid.

When he opened his eyes again, the sea was being emptied from him. He coughed and spat more seawater as he took a long, deep breath. His eyes focused on the shore at his feet, the black sky over his head, and a cluster of rocks at his left. There was no sign of the Jolly Roger, but there was a woman near his face, her eyes blue and haunting, her beautiful face framed by wild locks of red hair, her tail shining like so many emeralds—the mermaid, he realized with a start.

Instinctively, he tried to stand and back away—only to stumble and land on the sand with a thud. The mermaid laughed. Killian raised his hook menacingly, but his arm felt oddly weightless, like an empty shell. When he glanced at it, he was short of a hook.

The mermaid shook it before his very nose. "Looking for this?" she asked him. She had a lovely voice—but then again, hadn't they all seemed lovey at first?

"You are a funny fish," he said gruffly. "Now give it back."

His one hand went to grab it, but she was faster than he, and hadn't the disadvantage of lacking a hand. Smirking, she threw the hook into the sea.

Killian's horror must have shown on his face, because she said, somewhat sweetly, "Don't worry, I will get it back."

"You'd better get it back now, little mermaid."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Oh, I'm not getting it back for you. I need it."

"_You_ need it? You are a bloody fish! A fish with two hands, at that. What could you possibly want with it?"

Her eyes seemed to darken, even though the stars and the moon lit her features. "It's the hook that killed my sister."

"Your sister was trying to kill _me_!"

"Nevertheless, she was my sister. And it wasn't her fault. Not really."

She looked so sad that Killian bit down the nasty remark he was about to make. He watched her closely, expecting to read an explanation in her face. He found nothing but a pretty girl whose sorrow had turned her into a woman much too soon. If this was anywhere but Neverland, Hook was sure there'd be lines in her face.

"You saved me, didn't you?" She made no reply, only continued to stare at the sea. "Why?"

She shrugged. She'd turned her body away from his, but he could still see her profile: the corners of her mouth were turned down slightly, her eyes looked vacant, and her body was tense.

"I guess," she said slowly, "I always had a weakness for humans."

"Well, I always had a weakness for pretty girls, but I wouldn't save your scaled little arses even if you paid me."

That had been the wrong thing to say. The mermaid turned to him abruptly, and even though she was not as fierce as her sisters, there was something about her in that moment that chilled Killian to his very bones. "I told you, it isn't their fault! They are being punished. It's a curse."

"A curse?"

"Captain!"

Damned that Smee. The moment he looked his way, he heard a splash and the last he saw of her was the tip of her tail as she went back to the sea.

* * *

"I fear I'm not very familiar with the details myself, Miss Swan," he admits. "All I can say is, whenever a ship or a man comes near them, they start to sing like angels. They look like angels, too. But then you look again, and they turn into demons. I almost lost my crew to them when first I came to Neverland."

"Now that _does_ sound dangerous."

"Yeah, why are we going to Neverland again?"

"It's the place where lost things go," Killian says. "Lost things, and lost creatures."

* * *

The mermaid was positively glowing with delight when they found her. She was lying on a bed of coral and algae, her hands turning his hook around, her tail moving like that of a cat's. Every now and then she glanced around suspiciously, and, since she could not see them from where she was, she returned to her daydreams peacefully. Killian almost pitied her. Captain Hook did not.

"The net, boys."

They had her before she could even process what was happening. The net fell over her and his men moved fast, securing her before she had the chance to escape. Smee seized the hook, the faithful little lapdog, and for once Killian was glad to have him aboard.

"Hello, love. Remember me?"

The mermaid opened her mouth, perhaps only to scream, but Killian couldn't risk it—he personally put the rag between her lips and tied it around her head. "Now, make sure you don't bite that too hard," he warned her.


	3. Welcome to the Jolly Roger

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the wait, guys!

* * *

**The Mermaid's Curse**

_**by Emmy Smokes**_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Welcome to the Jolly Roger**

* * *

"Enjoying the accommodations?"

No, she was not, and she would tell him so—and quite loudly—the minute she got rid of this gag. For now all she could do was hope her eyes said it all for her: _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._ It was no use, though. He had human eyes, and in the darkness of her cell he'd have a hard time appreciating the ferocity of her glare.

It was as black as the bottom of the sea in here, but the smell was different—mould, dust, sweat, metal. It was disgusting. _He_ was disgusting.

She tried once more to move, but the chains kept her where she was, writhing uselessly. They'd tied her wrists over her head so that she was now left hanging there, her tail a dead weight under her. It'd been hours since she'd last been in the water. Already she felt a little feverish.

"I must apologize, we don't get guests very often," the man they called Hook was saying. The smirk was still there. Ariel was beginning to doubt it ever left his face. "Now, prisoners, on the other hand…"

Hook started pacing around her cell, his boots clanking with every step. He walked in the way Ariel had seen sailors walk aboard a ship: with a swagger in his step, as steady and as confident as if he were on land. A lifetime ago, a different man had explained to her that people who weren't used to sailing would stumble and vomit when they got on a ship. Ariel herself was feeling sick now.

Still, with what felt like the last of her strength, she bared her teeth at him. A part of her kept hoping the same savage instinct that took hold of her sisters would possess her then, but the shackles held her in place, and the gag prevented her from screaming. All she managed was to hurt her wrists in her struggles.

Then there was the other part of her, the one that was slowly dying in this prison. The one that still had memories, albeit ones shrouded in mist. She could recall a doting father, a fearsome merman that loved her dearly and would not let her go. She could sometimes picture a dark-haired youth with a kind smile and a heart that was never hers. Other times she saw other, less pleasant things, but those she buried deep within her heart.

Suddenly she heard Hook's voice whisper into her ear, "But I don't think you were always like this." Ariel started; he was right in front of her, close enough to touch her—to hurt her if he so wanted. He raised his hook and it glistened in the moonlight. Ariel swallowed thickly.

"Who knows, perhaps you were even a happy little princess in your day." She cringed. "Ah, hit a nerve there, did I? Well, I'm not going to get any answers from you like this. Time for you to start talking."

Her blood froze when the hook came close to her face. She turned her face away, her survival instinct getting the best of her. Was he going to kill her like he had her sister? His one hand was already on her neck.

"Hush, little mermaid, I won't hurt you."

It was over in a second. His hook tugged at the rag, the cold steel practically kissing her cheek in the process, and then she was spitting the damned thing out and coughing in relief.

"Good fish. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Immediately, Ariel was propelling herself forward in a vain attempt to attack him. Hook backed away but looked more amused than startled. That only made it worse.

"LET ME GO!"

"Why is that the first thing you _always_ say? You could have at least tried to be more original, little mermaid."

"I saved your life!" And to her shame, there were tears in her eyes now. "Even after—after what you did to my sister..."

"Yes, not your brightest decision, if you ask me. Can't say I blame you for being a little... upset. I'd feel the same way if I were in your shoes—or fins—or is it tail? What do you call it?"

Ariel could think of many ways to call _him_, but her fear kept her tongue in check. He was starting to approach her again, and soon he was close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her face. The proximity seemed to serve no other purpose than to make her uncomfortable. It was successful.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Observe you. Never caught a real mermaid before. Though you are a bit of a disappointment, I'll admit. Mermaids are supposed to be beautiful and charming little creatures, not bloodsucking monsters."

Ariel glared at him.

"We are not monsters. _You_ are. I wish I'd let my sister kill you. I wish you'd drowned."

Her words must have had some effect on him; for a moment he looked almost hurt, but the moment was gone so fast it might have never happened at all. Still, he looked away from her, and the smirk vanished from his face. This time when he spoke his voice was no longer that of the captain with the hook, but that of the man without a hand.

"No, love. The real monster is still out there, basking in the glory of our misery. Ripping hearts out for his own amusement."

Ariel held her breath. A long-forgotten memory flashed before her eyes: laughter, golden eyes, and then...

"NO!" the scream left her throat before she'd regained control of her senses. In the silence that followed she saw that the man in front of her was not that demon, that she wasn't alone in the dark, that she was safe.

She was in somebody's arms, she realized. Warm, strong arms—human arms. But how? Slowly, she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to see _who_ was holding her. In that moment his face looked painfully familiar—the handsome features, the scent of leather and sea—until she saw that it was Hook.

"Let go of me!"

"I already have, you stubborn fish! Look!"

It was true. She was being carried by that awful man, but her arms were finally free—in fact, her hands were grabbing his shirt. Horrified, she let go of him.

"Don't get any ideas now. I only untied you because you fainted and started convulsing, and I can't get any information out of a dead fish."

She was ready to jump off him when his arms tightened around her. "Let go of me!" Desperate, she looked around her, trying to find something—anything—that would help her escape. All she saw was a door, and when he kicked it open she found herself in a candlelit cabin with nothing but a tub in it. Immediately she knew whose cabin it was.

It was her new cell.

He dumped her into the tub so violently that the impact caused the water to slosh and spill all over the floor. Her limbs barely fit inside the tub, but it was deep enough for Ariel to submerge herself completely. After spending so long out of sea, this was a relief.

"Better?" she heard him ask. It was difficult to miss the laughter in his voice—and to not feel outraged by it.

Ariel emerged to spit water into his face. He didn't flinch. She was starting to believe all he did and didn't do was calculated precisely to make her angry. "I'm not helping you," she declared defiantly. "You can torture me all you want."

"Torture you?" he exclaimed, as if he found the concept amusing. "All I want to do is help you, love."

_Love_. He made it sound like venom. Every word he uttered was venom.

"Don't call me love. Whatever it is you want, I'm not helping you. I'm never making that mistake again."

"I'm not _asking_ you. And by the way, I never tortured you. I was observing you."

"By keeping me in chains? Without food or water? For _hours_?"

"Forgive me for being a little cautious after one of you tried to murder me!"

"You murdered _her_! And I already told you, it wasn't her fault!" Ariel bit her tongue. She'd already said too much. He seemed to know it, too, because he eyed her intently, as if his world depended on what Ariel could tell him.

"Then whose fault was it? Yours?" His hand went to her arm and squeezed it almost painfully, but not enough to hurt her, just enough to remind her that he could. "Somebody else's?" His grip tightened. "You mentioned a curse. Whose curse is it?" He shook her. "_Whose_?"

Ariel closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the soothing feeling of the water around her. She would not give in. She'd already made too many mistakes in her life; this was not going to be another one of them.

Let him plead on his knees.

"Very well, let's try this again."

He sounded so mad that for a second Ariel feared he was about to strike her. She opened her eyes. He didn't hit her, only crouched down beside the tub, his single hand gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes searched hers until she met them, fearless.

There was nothing to fear, though. He didn't look threatening. If anything, he looked lost.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

Ariel rolled her eyes at him.

"Alright, I'm not. Can you blame me? That—that monster was going to eat me alive! And I don't know if you've noticed, but I could bear not to lose another limb. I'd rather not be the Captain Eyeless with a Hook, thank you."

"You just love the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

"I do, actually. So do most women. But I guess it doesn't have the same effect on fish." He smiled crookedly at her and stopped when she didn't smile back. "Alright, alright. Look, in my world—I think it was your world, too—I saw... The love of my life, she was killed. Her heart was ripped out of her chest by a man called Rumpelstinskin."

The name gave her goosebumps, but she had no idea why. Perhaps it was the way he said it.

"I'm sorry," she said cautiously. "But I don't... I don't know anything about that."

"Yes, you do. When I mentioned him you fainted and you screamed. If you ask me, that makes your lies at least a tad less believable, wouldn't you agree?" Ariel said nothing. She was good at keeping quiet. "Have it your way, then. You can stay here and watch me butcher your sisters one by one!"

She waited until he slammed the door behind him to start crying.

* * *

Killian smiled at his guest. His lovely, rosy-cheeked, red-haired, almost human guest. No one dared come near the creature, so she remained as wild and untamed as ever, with an unhinged look about her eyes. They'd dumped her in a smaller tub, one for her tail alone, in some mockery of a chair. Killian was certain she could not be more uncomfortable.

Her self-restraint was remarkable, however. So far she hadn't spared a single glance to her plate, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was the dullest evening Killian had ever spent with a woman.

"Not every prisoner is afforded the luxury of dining with the captain, you know. Or of eating such fine dishes. Come, little mermaid. It's not poisoned. I give you my word."

"It's fish," she deadpanned.

"What, are you going to tell me it's one of your little friends?"

The girl had a talent for glaring, he'd grant her that.

"So what _do_ you eat? I'm curious." Not to mention worried. From what Smee told him, the mermaid was refusing any and all kinds of food, be it meat or fruit. The idiot was too afraid of her to actually ask her what she ate; he simply threw the dishes at her and darted off, and when he returned he'd find them untouched.

Once again, Killian was charged with the responsibilities that came with being the only competent man on board.

When she stubbornly kept her silence, he pressed, "Is it human flesh? Because I can give you Smee, if you want. He's better off in someone's stomach than here giving me a headache."

"I _don't_ eat humans," she hissed, as if the very idea disgusted her. Then she smirked at him. "But if I did, you'd be the first one on my list."

Killian sipped at his wine, unimpressed. If anything, he was disappointed in her. Her threats were growing more endearing than menacing, like a rebellious child's. Slowly, the fight seemed to be leaving her, although her eyes still shone with the unmistakable spark of resilience. Whatever happened, this one was determined to survive.

But no woman, magical or not, had ever been able to resist Killian. Sooner or later she'd give him what he wanted. He did not mind the wait: to his surprise, her pitiful attempts at retaining her pride entertained him.

"So, not fish, then. Not human flesh. Not fruit, or steak, or anything else my men bring you. Maybe you feast on uncomfortable silences?"

In that moment he could've sworn he saw a genuine smile on her face—only to vanish quickly, like a mirage. Like a mermaid.

"Come on, fi—Ariel. You must be hungry."

She frowned at him—perhaps his use of her name had taken her by surprise—but said nothing. Killian was starting to lose his temper.

"Do you intend to starve here? In a ship filled with men you hate? I can give you your freedom in the blink of an eye, little—_Ariel_. All you have to do is tell me what you know, and it will be done. You will go back to your lovely sisters and all will be forgotten."

"I don't know anything," she said petulantly, only to add, more petulantly still, "_Hook_."

It took all his self control not to leap out of his seat and shake her shoulders. As the days passed and it became clear that the mermaids would not attack them to save their sister (Killian was beginning to suspect they cared not for each other at all, or at least not for this particular mermaid) somehow she grew more stubborn, and he more desperate.

He'd already tried everything he could think of. Total isolation. Threats. Friendship. Promises. All she'd rejected, and like her untouched food, it all proved to be useless.

What else could he do? Cry and beg like a coward?

No. He had his pride too.

"I'm starting to think you like spending time with me," he mused. The way her nose wrinkled at the very idea made him smile. "What's a man to think, Ariel? First you save his life, then you take his precious hook away... Now you deny him the pleasure of having a real conversation with you."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Then I have bad news for you, love, because you already are. So let's talk. Where are your sisters? What happened to the human you loved?" There: a flicker in her eyes before she dropped her gaze. His suspicions were right. "Did he die, too?"

At that she lifts her eyes. "Too?" she repeats, frowning. Then her mouth drops open as realization hits her. "_You_ were in love?"

"You make it sound so insulting. Aye, I was in love. Pirates can love, you know."

"So can mermaids."

Killian has the impression that they are seeing each other for the first time. He can't hide his discomfort, so he looks away. He fears he's revealed too much, gone too far.

_Milah_. If she were here she'd know what to say. No, if she were here, none of this would be happening.

"Clams," the mermaid whispers suddenly. When Killian looks her way she gives him the smallest, most reluctant of smiles: an attempt at reconciliation if he's ever seen one. "That's what I eat."

He smiles back. The sense of victory is overwhelming.

"Then you shall have your clams. All the clams you like, I promise you. You must be starving. Smee! Fetch the merm—fetch Ariel some clams! Now, Ariel, I do believe we will get along famously. My name is Killian Jones. Welcome to the Jolly Roger."

* * *

A/N:

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the wait, guys!

* * *

**The Mermaid's Curse**

_**by Emmy Smokes**_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Welcome to the Jolly Roger**

* * *

"Enjoying the accommodations?"

No, she was not, and she would tell him so—and quite loudly—the minute she got rid of this gag. For now all she could do was hope her eyes said it all for her: _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._ It was no use, though. He had human eyes, and in the darkness of her cell he'd have a hard time appreciating the ferocity of her glare.

It was as black as the bottom of the sea in here, but the smell was different—mould, dust, sweat, metal. It was disgusting. _He_ was disgusting.

She tried once more to move, but the chains kept her where she was, writhing uselessly. They'd tied her wrists over her head so that she was now left hanging there, her tail a dead weight under her. It'd been hours since she'd last been in the water. Already she felt a little feverish.

"I must apologize, we don't get guests very often," the man they called Hook was saying. The smirk was still there. Ariel was beginning to doubt it ever left his face. "Now, prisoners, on the other hand…"

Hook started pacing around her cell, his boots clanking with every step. He walked in the way Ariel had seen sailors walk aboard a ship: with a swagger in his step, as steady and as confident as if he were on land. A lifetime ago, a different man had explained to her that people who weren't used to sailing would stumble and vomit when they got on a ship. Ariel herself was feeling sick now.

Still, with what felt like the last of her strength, she bared her teeth at him. A part of her kept hoping the same savage instinct that took hold of her sisters would possess her then, but the shackles held her in place, and the gag prevented her from screaming. All she managed was to hurt her wrists in her struggles.

Then there was the other part of her, the one that was slowly dying in this prison. The one that still had memories, albeit ones shrouded in mist. She could recall a doting father, a fearsome merman that loved her dearly and would not let her go. She could sometimes picture a dark-haired youth with a kind smile and a heart that was never hers. Other times she saw other, less pleasant things, but those she buried deep within her heart.

Suddenly she heard Hook's voice whisper into her ear, "But I don't think you were always like this." Ariel started; he was right in front of her, close enough to touch her—to hurt her if he so wanted. He raised his hook and it glistened in the moonlight. Ariel swallowed thickly.

"Who knows, perhaps you were even a happy little princess in your day." She cringed. "Ah, hit a nerve there, did I? Well, I'm not going to get any answers from you like this. Time for you to start talking."

Her blood froze when the hook came close to her face. She turned her face away, her survival instinct getting the best of her. Was he going to kill her like he had her sister? His one hand was already on her neck.

"Hush, little mermaid, I won't hurt you."

It was over in a second. His hook tugged at the rag, the cold steel practically kissing her cheek in the process, and then she was spitting the damned thing out and coughing in relief.

"Good fish. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Immediately, Ariel was propelling herself forward in a vain attempt to attack him. Hook backed away but looked more amused than startled. That only made it worse.

"LET ME GO!"

"Why is that the first thing you _always_ say? You could have at least tried to be more original, little mermaid."

"I saved your life!" And to her shame, there were tears in her eyes now. "Even after—after what you did to my sister..."

"Yes, not your brightest decision, if you ask me. Can't say I blame you for being a little... upset. I'd feel the same way if I were in your shoes—or fins—or is it tail? What do you call it?"

Ariel could think of many ways to call _him_, but her fear kept her tongue in check. He was starting to approach her again, and soon he was close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her face. The proximity seemed to serve no other purpose than to make her uncomfortable. It was successful.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Observe you. Never caught a real mermaid before. Though you are a bit of a disappointment, I'll admit. Mermaids are supposed to be beautiful and charming little creatures, not bloodsucking monsters."

Ariel glared at him.

"We are not monsters. _You_ are. I wish I'd let my sister kill you. I wish you'd drowned."

Her words must have had some effect on him; for a moment he looked almost hurt, but the moment was gone so fast it might have never happened at all. Still, he looked away from her, and the smirk vanished from his face. This time when he spoke his voice was no longer that of the captain with the hook, but that of the man without a hand.

"No, love. The real monster is still out there, basking in the glory of our misery. Ripping hearts out for his own amusement."

Ariel held her breath. A long-forgotten memory flashed before her eyes: laughter, golden eyes, and then...

"NO!" the scream left her throat before she'd regained control of her senses. In the silence that followed she saw that the man in front of her was not that demon, that she wasn't alone in the dark, that she was safe.

She was in somebody's arms, she realized. Warm, strong arms—human arms. But how? Slowly, she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to see _who_ was holding her. In that moment his face looked painfully familiar—the handsome features, the scent of leather and sea—until she saw that it was Hook.

"Let go of me!"

"I already have, you stubborn fish! Look!"

It was true. She was being carried by that awful man, but her arms were finally free—in fact, her hands were grabbing his shirt. Horrified, she let go of him.

"Don't get any ideas now. I only untied you because you fainted and started convulsing, and I can't get any information out of a dead fish."

She was ready to jump off him when his arms tightened around her. "Let go of me!" Desperate, she looked around her, trying to find something—anything—that would help her escape. All she saw was a door, and when he kicked it open she found herself in a candlelit cabin with nothing but a tub in it. Immediately she knew whose cabin it was.

It was her new cell.

He dumped her into the tub so violently that the impact caused the water to slosh and spill all over the floor. Her limbs barely fit inside the tub, but it was deep enough for Ariel to submerge herself completely. After spending so long out of sea, this was a relief.

"Better?" she heard him ask. It was difficult to miss the laughter in his voice—and to not feel outraged by it.

Ariel emerged to spit water into his face. He didn't flinch. She was starting to believe all he did and didn't do was calculated precisely to make her angry. "I'm not helping you," she declared defiantly. "You can torture me all you want."

"Torture you?" he exclaimed, as if he found the concept amusing. "All I want to do is help you, love."

_Love_. He made it sound like venom. Every word he uttered was venom.

"Don't call me love. Whatever it is you want, I'm not helping you. I'm never making that mistake again."

"I'm not _asking_ you. And by the way, I never tortured you. I was observing you."

"By keeping me in chains? Without food or water? For _hours_?"

"Forgive me for being a little cautious after one of you tried to murder me!"

"You murdered _her_! And I already told you, it wasn't her fault!" Ariel bit her tongue. She'd already said too much. He seemed to know it, too, because he eyed her intently, as if his world depended on what Ariel could tell him.

"Then whose fault was it? Yours?" His hand went to her arm and squeezed it almost painfully, but not enough to hurt her, just enough to remind her that he could. "Somebody else's?" His grip tightened. "You mentioned a curse. Whose curse is it?" He shook her. "_Whose_?"

Ariel closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the soothing feeling of the water around her. She would not give in. She'd already made too many mistakes in her life; this was not going to be another one of them.

Let him plead on his knees.

"Very well, let's try this again."

He sounded so mad that for a second Ariel feared he was about to strike her. She opened her eyes. He didn't hit her, only crouched down beside the tub, his single hand gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes searched hers until she met them, fearless.

There was nothing to fear, though. He didn't look threatening. If anything, he looked lost.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

Ariel rolled her eyes at him.

"Alright, I'm not. Can you blame me? That—that monster was going to eat me alive! And I don't know if you've noticed, but I could bear not to lose another limb. I'd rather not be the Captain Eyeless with a Hook, thank you."

"You just love the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

"I do, actually. So do most women. But I guess it doesn't have the same effect on fish." He smiled crookedly at her and stopped when she didn't smile back. "Alright, alright. Look, in my world—I think it was your world, too—I saw... The love of my life, she was killed. Her heart was ripped out of her chest by a man called Rumpelstinskin."

The name gave her goosebumps, but she had no idea why. Perhaps it was the way he said it.

"I'm sorry," she said cautiously. "But I don't... I don't know anything about that."

"Yes, you do. When I mentioned him you fainted and you screamed. If you ask me, that makes your lies at least a tad less believable, wouldn't you agree?" Ariel said nothing. She was good at keeping quiet. "Have it your way, then. You can stay here and watch me butcher your sisters one by one!"

She waited until he slammed the door behind him to start crying.

* * *

Killian smiled at his guest. His lovely, rosy-cheeked, red-haired, almost human guest. No one dared come near the creature, so she remained as wild and untamed as ever, with an unhinged look about her eyes. They'd dumped her in a smaller tub, one for her tail alone, in some mockery of a chair. Killian was certain she could not be more uncomfortable.

Her self-restraint was remarkable, however. So far she hadn't spared a single glance to her plate, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was the dullest evening Killian had ever spent with a woman.

"Not every prisoner is afforded the luxury of dining with the captain, you know. Or of eating such fine dishes. Come, little mermaid. It's not poisoned. I give you my word."

"It's fish," she deadpanned.

"What, are you going to tell me it's one of your little friends?"

The girl had a talent for glaring, he'd grant her that.

"So what _do_ you eat? I'm curious." Not to mention worried. From what Smee told him, the mermaid was refusing any and all kinds of food, be it meat or fruit. The idiot was too afraid of her to actually ask her what she ate; he simply threw the dishes at her and darted off, and when he returned he'd find them untouched.

Once again, Killian was charged with the responsibilities that came with being the only competent man on board.

When she stubbornly kept her silence, he pressed, "Is it human flesh? Because I can give you Smee, if you want. He's better off in someone's stomach than here giving me a headache."

"I _don't_ eat humans," she hissed, as if the very idea disgusted her. Then she smirked at him. "But if I did, you'd be the first one on my list."

Killian sipped at his wine, unimpressed. If anything, he was disappointed in her. Her threats were growing more endearing than menacing, like a rebellious child's. Slowly, the fight seemed to be leaving her, although her eyes still shone with the unmistakable spark of resilience. Whatever happened, this one was determined to survive.

But no woman, magical or not, had ever been able to resist Killian. Sooner or later she'd give him what he wanted. He did not mind the wait: to his surprise, her pitiful attempts at retaining her pride entertained him.

"So, not fish, then. Not human flesh. Not fruit, or steak, or anything else my men bring you. Maybe you feast on uncomfortable silences?"

In that moment he could've sworn he saw a genuine smile on her face—only to vanish quickly, like a mirage. Like a mermaid.

"Come on, fi—Ariel. You must be hungry."

She frowned at him—perhaps his use of her name had taken her by surprise—but said nothing. Killian was starting to lose his temper.

"Do you intend to starve here? In a ship filled with men you hate? I can give you your freedom in the blink of an eye, little—_Ariel_. All you have to do is tell me what you know, and it will be done. You will go back to your lovely sisters and all will be forgotten."

"I don't know anything," she said petulantly, only to add, more petulantly still, "_Hook_."

It took all his self control not to leap out of his seat and shake her shoulders. As the days passed and it became clear that the mermaids would not attack them to save their sister (Killian was beginning to suspect they cared not for each other at all, or at least not for this particular mermaid) somehow she grew more stubborn, and he more desperate.

He'd already tried everything he could think of. Total isolation. Threats. Friendship. Promises. All she'd rejected, and like her untouched food, it all proved to be useless.

What else could he do? Cry and beg like a coward?

No. He had his pride too.

"I'm starting to think you like spending time with me," he mused. The way her nose wrinkled at the very idea made him smile. "What's a man to think, Ariel? First you save his life, then you take his precious hook away... Now you deny him the pleasure of having a real conversation with you."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Then I have bad news for you, love, because you already are. So let's talk. Where are your sisters? What happened to the human you loved?" There: a flicker in her eyes before she dropped her gaze. His suspicions were right. "Did he die, too?"

At that she lifts her eyes. "Too?" she repeats, frowning. Then her mouth drops open as realization hits her. "_You_ were in love?"

"You make it sound so insulting. Aye, I was in love. Pirates can love, you know."

"So can mermaids."

Killian has the impression that they are seeing each other for the first time. He can't hide his discomfort, so he looks away. He fears he's revealed too much, gone too far.

_Milah_. If she were here she'd know what to say. No, if she were here, none of this would be happening.

"Clams," the mermaid whispers suddenly. When Killian looks her way she gives him the smallest, most reluctant of smiles: an attempt at reconciliation if he's ever seen one. "That's what I eat."

He smiles back. The sense of victory is overwhelming.

"Then you shall have your clams. All the clams you like, I promise you. You must be starving. Smee! Fetch the merm—fetch Ariel some clams! Now, Ariel, I do believe we will get along famously. My name is Killian Jones. Welcome to the Jolly Roger."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter guys! I'd love to hear your opinions on it.


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